Contraband
by Anwa
Summary: Even in the New York Underworld, there are still some rules that should never be broken. CM.
1. Foreplay

_All right. I've had this project sitting on my computer for god knows how long and now I've finally titled it so I can finally...post it. Amazing, eh? _

_So this is very much a Romeo and Juliet mets West Side Story which meets The Godfather. Joyous, no? Original, yes. I intend to use all Romeo and Juliet quotes for the story...which means I have to keep consulting my "Shakespeare made easy" guide just in case I screw up the translation again. I mean, come on, he makes NO SENSE. If anyone out there gets Shakespeare, please...trade brains with me! _

_Although, this year I won't have to suffer through any plays...that is probably the only good thing about the junior year english curliculum (wow...I really wish I could spell too, so whoever volenteers to trade brains with me, please have and/or get good spelling skills). Granted it also means that we are stuck reading "Classical American Authors" whom they deem most important. Ugh. It really sucks. _

_Anyways, back to the story. This is merely the set-up chapter. It's got a narrator that I'll be rid of by the next chapter and will probably stick with Chandler for the most part. And since it is me, you can probably tell who will be playing Romeo and who will be Juliet. Try and figure out the rest of the parts, will you? hee hee. _

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Contraband  
****  
**_"For never was a story of more woe/Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."  
__(Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare, Act 5 Scene 3)_

* * *

In the underworld of New York City you could count on two things: Power and Greed. They were like two arms connected to one singular entity, but one carried out the crime, while the other brought about the sentence. And while the heyday of the mob had long-since run out, their traces could still be found amidst the barbaric gangs that have since plagued the city.

You see, a mobster is nothing more then a businessman, yet he had somehow earned the title of a criminal because he chose to watch his own back instead of counting on big brother to do it for him. A mobster had learned a long time ago that big brother doesn't care about the little people, no, big brother only takes care of those whom they deem important enough. Millionaires, for example, or former Presidents, or celebrities—all deem an invitation for eternal protection against those who might want to do them harm.

All the while, the government pressed hard against the mobsters. Protecting the coke-heads, and trying to bring down the last remnants of organized crime. If Big Brother had anything to do with it, they'd feed the city to the gangs, forgetting the class and consideration of its former leaders.

Gangs don't care who you are. You dare look at them the wrong way, they could pull a gun on you. Mobsters however will never go after a civilian, unless the civilian proves himself or herself to be a problem. And that has hardly ever happened in their line of work. They would take out the trash and only the trash. It was a public service, really. The city should be thanking them, not arresting them.

But, arrests were few in the mobsters world. You see, a well-trained Don would bring up a lawyer for the family and only for the family. And that lawyer would protect the family from anything and everything, including the law.

Chandler Bing had been flirting with the legal system for the Tribbiani Family since the day he graduated from law school. And he was a damn good lawyer too. He had been sent to law school not only to learn how to obey and interpret the laws, but also how to move around the laws or even, in rare cases, make loopholes in the laws. And the Tribbiani family had been living in one of his self-created loopholes for almost six years now. It was getting to be about time for him to make a new one.

He wasn't what you might think a criminal mastermind might look like. He looked like just some guy, nobody that you should worry about. And his last name didn't strike fear into anybody, Bing wasn't exactly terrifying. But Tribbiani was.

Joseph Tribbiani Sr. had practically adopted Chandler when he was still in high school. It was really serendipity that had brought Chandler to the Tribbiani's door, a chance meeting in a required auto shop class that introduced him to Joey, Tribbiani's son and soon-to-be heir, and him being a no-nothing kid from California had no idea that this guy was the son of a mobster and probably should be avoided at all costs.

But his ignorance had served him well in the long run. He had struck up a friendship with Joey, and through that was introduced to Joseph Tribbiani Sr. who began to take up an interest in Chandler. Upon the death of his mother early in his junior year, Chandler moved in with the Tribbiani's permanently. He later referred to this point in his life as the best business decision a know-nothing kid from California would ever make.

As I have said before, Chandler was put through law school, courtesy of Tribbiani, and was then groomed for eventual unofficial leadership. Joey may have been Tribbiani's son, but he had never inherited his father's brilliance. So, it was decided the day that Chandler was accepted into the house that not only would he become the family lawyer, but also the unofficial head.

Joey had the Sicilian-blood in him, and Chandler had the brain to back up it. Together they were the perfect leader. But nobody had to know that Chandler was the brains and Joey only the face man. Thus, the brilliance in Tribbiani's plan.

With this duo, the Tribbiani's hoped to be unstoppable. At least against the law.

But the Gellers. They were the only real competition the Tribbiani's ever had. Jack Geller may have not had a single drop of Sicilian blood in him, but he could have fooled the best of them. He was s true Sicilian if there ever was any.

Jack Geller had been a savvy businessman from the start, but as soon as he crossed into the shady side, every one knew things would never quite be the same. Until then only the Tribbiani's had dominated the crime world.

What caused Geller's sudden rise in power is debatable. Whether he was just born bad and waiting in the dark for his shot collecting whatever information he could until he held enough strings, or perhaps something more like Chandler's cross over: pure serendipity.

Or perhaps if he had a little help from another family, promising a union between the two, then later back-stabbing them into submission. There has even been rumors of the fact that it had nothing to do with strings or another family, that Jack Geller was just that good. That he could not only move from the legit side of things and into the shady side, but also become one of the strongest families ever to grace the Manhattan streets.

Whatever it was is not important, what is, however, is the fact that one by one, the other families fell back in line, bowing down to his power as well as the Tribbiani's. Everyone knew that Jack had his eye on the Tribbiani family power, on their connections, on their way of doing things. He had even tried to overtake them once or twice, but Geller didn't count on one thing. Chandler was damn good at damage control, and even better at keeping secrets secret.

You see, what made Jack maintain his power was the ability he had to obtain secrets. Secrets nobody thought could ever get out. Secrets that destroyed careers, people, even marriages. And people would do anything to keep those secrets secret. Anything.

But Geller was getting older. It was getting to be about that time when he was ready to settle into retirement, like all good business men before him. And Tribbiani knew that this would be the only time he could possibly attack and win back everything that had previously been his.

And so, on one rainy afternoon, Tribbiani had called Chandler into his office, like he had done many times before. But instead of discussing a legal matter, like they would normally do, Tribbiani began to reveal just a little piece of his plan. Just enough information for Chandler to get the job done. Because Chandler would be dabbling in the world of secrets, and a man that knows too little is far better off them a man that knows too much.

It was on that afternoon that Chandler was given is first unofficial task for Tribbiani. Geller would be handing over the business to somebody close to him. Somebody that he could trust with his most notorious of secrets. And picking his heir would be the most crucial point in his family's livelihood.

And it was Chandler's job to take out that livelihood, by finding out who would take over the family. Take out the perfect heir, take out the family. That was the plan.

Now, in order to know the situation, you have to know the Geller's. Geller had only two children himself, a boy, Ross, and a girl, Monica. Then there were the Green's, whom Geller had always been friendly with, but the Green's cemented their place within the family when Ross married Rachel Green, over the past summer. They already had one son between them, Ben, and wasted no time getting back on the horse, and Rachel was due again within seven months.

And while Ross seemed to be a prime candidate because of blood, he lacked the business skills to really man that kind of operation. He let his emotions guide him, wore them right out on his sleeve. And in the world of secrets, that just couldn't do.

They had already paid a few prices for Ross's temper, but never much. You see, while the Tribbiani's had Chandler on their side, the Geller's had an equally as talented attorney within their family, Monica, Geller's daughter. While her and Chandler were evenly matched in legal matters, Monica held a higher card that she kept in her back pocket, just in case. Herself.

Joey had commented on more then one occasion if she wasn't a Geller he'd screw her himself, and the majority of the Tribbiani's secretly shared his opinion. But they knew if anyone dared go near her they'd be facing the barrel of a gun within an hour or two. She was just that dangerous. A modern day Siren.

But Monica would never be handed the reins to the operation. While she was probably more qualified in every aspect imaginable for her father's business, organized crime had yet to have their feminist movement. Just having Monica as his attorney alone was unorthodox, but having her take over the family was unheard of. They'd be the laughing stock of the New York families, losing all credibility or possibility, and in effect, completing Chandler's job for him before he even had to lift a finger.

There was also Richard Burke to consider. While he had no blood ties to the family, him and Geller grew up together. They were in the army together. Literally had gone through almost everything together. Why not hand some if not all of his lucrative business, in which Richard had been a vital part of, over to him?

Richard had always been a suave business man, and would sink into the world of secrets without a single problem. The man could sell you not only a house in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but a little white fence to go around it. He made was for this business.

But, he was also only a year younger then Geller. And that posed a major problem. Richard probably would retire within the next few years, and handing over the business too much would case problems. Whoever took over the business would spend years building and developing relationships with these people, earning their poorly placed trust, and Richard lacked the longevity that a younger person might bring.

Then there was Will Green, Rachel's slightly older brother. He was a pretty faced party boy, who had been gifted with a talent for being a man's man and a ladies man all at once. But he was famous for holding a grudge. And in today's underworld, a revenge kill revoked any chance you had at that get out of jail free card they waved around every so often.

After Tribbiani explained all of this to Chandler, he sent him out with the soul mission of finding out who was to take over and report back. Nothing more and nothing less. Because if there was one thing that Tribbiani hated more then a rat, it was competition. And Geller was offering just that.

* * *

_And Scene._

**_Updates up ASAP.  
Please Review. _**


	2. Meeting

_I live!_

_Thanks to: **Writergal90, 1987, Blebo, Miss-Bing, Miss Jasadin, Mondlerlove, **and **Rachgreengeller** for the reviews._

_More comments at the end._

* * *

_"And in this state she gallops night by night/Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love"  
("Romeo and Juliet", Act I, Scene IV)_

* * *

Chandler Bing walked down the sidewalk like he owned it. And nobody seemed to disagree with his display of power. He chewed happily on a hot dog, a gift from one of the vendors, it seemed that he didn't even have to have the Tribbiani last name to be infamous in his own right. Hell, he'd never even killed a soul in his life, but being the one and only lawyer to the Tribbiani's gave him a lot of power in the family. And with power came protection.

It seemed that the basic and possibly even barbaric law of an eye for and eye still applied in the New York underworld. And as long as he stayed within the good graces of the Tribbinai's, he was granted the power to have anyone killed who so much as looked at him funny.

He crossed the street with an air of arrogance to him, his chin held up just a little higher then the rest. He chomped down hard on his hot dog, it had taken him years to find the perfect vendor, but with a little bit of vigilance he believed he found the perfect hot dog. Just the right amount of ketchup, bun, grease, and dog to make anyone's knee's buckle a little. Not to mention the vendor seemed to be more then happy to donate this tasty snack to Chandler's stomach.

His eyes scanned the busy sidewalk for any sign of his informant, a hooker he only knew by Kathy. She never gave him a last name, and he never asked. She knew the goings on of all the crime families, elite criminal mastermind or not, drunken lips make loose lips. And the Tribbiani's paid well for her tidbits of information. Everyone knew that.

"Hey big spender, you lookin' for somethin'?" Kathy smiled seductively, thrusting her well-endowed and barely covered chest at him.

Chandler smiled back at her, ignoring her career making come-ons and taking another large bite of his hot dog. "Just for a bit of info, you got anything today?"

She slumped her chest back down, a slightly more disappointed look adoring her face, and shrugged. "I'll get ya one day, Michael," she used the name he had originally given her. Kathy may have been an informant for the Tribbiani's, but that was only for now. The problem with hookers is that they always go to the highest bidder. Sometimes it was best to not leave a trail.

He took one last large chomp of his hot dog, crumbled the wrapper and tossed it on the sidewalk next to him. No one protested. They never did.

"I take it you wanna hear about Jack Geller's goings on."

"You got anything?"

"Well I know his little tramp of a daughter has been seen around town a lot with that Richard character, but I have seen her a couple of times with that Green, Will Green, right? But he's good looking, he could actually just be a screw for the sake of a screw."

"So you really don't have any clue, do you?"

She shook her head slowly, as she pressed her body up against his, "Well I might have heard something else, but that'll cost you extra."

"Depends. Are you trying to scam us, Kathy?"

"Never, Michael," she brought her hand up, tracing the defined lines of his face lightly with her finger. "I could never do that to you."

"Our payment is final. All you've given me is gossip. That's not in our agreement. At this point, you haven't made any money."

"Fine then," she pulled away from Chandler angrily, "I mighta heard a joint leadership of his son and that Richard character, at least until Ross understands exactly what's going on. Nothing definite though."

Chandler cracked a smile, "Thank-you," he held up a small paper sack filled with bills. "I'll see ya around, Kathy."

"Sure thing, Michael."

And that was that. In a court of law he could say that he had only met the girl once, she tried to steal his money from him, he grew a heart and gave her some of his food. Sure it was a little white lie, but it was a nice little white lie. Most importantly a believable little white lie.

That's all the courts really cared about. Could they believe this story that this loser was feeding them. And Chandler's was safe. He didn't even know if Kathy was her real name. And she was a crack whore, so anything she said couldn't be true compared to the words of a well-respected, highly trained attorney.

And that was what he loved most about this great country.

"My, my, if it isn't the incomparable, Mr. Chandler Bing." Officer Phoebe Buffay casually strode up besides him. It seemed ironic that the only cop with the balls to stand up against the crime families was in fact a woman. A very straight, very beautiful, blonde-haired woman.

Even her captain, Pete Becker had gone crooked years ago out of a combination of fear and greed. But she didn't know this. She still believed in truth, justice, and the American way. It was almost comical.

"Officer Buffay, isn't this a surprise," he mused back. "I haven't seen you since the trial last month. Sorry about that, by the way. Guess, the DA just needs a few more good lawyers on their team, huh?"

"Apparently so," she forced out with a slight edge to her voice.

Chandler offered a warm smile, "Aw, oh well. Justice needn't be bothered that day, huh? Did you ever find the right guy? It just makes me sick to my stomach that a killer is walkin' loose somewhere around this city."

"No, no, haven't found anyone new, yet."

"That's a shame," he continued on with their little game. She knew he was lying and he knew she was lying. But neither of them would call each other on it.

Lying is truly what made the world go round.

"It really is."

"Well, if you find him, give the bastard a good punch for me, would ya? Killin' some poor guy like he did. That's just sick and wrong."

"Well there are a lot of sickos running around today. They think they're above the law, but sooner or later justice will take its course. It always does." She had always been a master at underhanded insults.

"And I'm glad," Chandler forced a smile back, continuing on their little game. "But, I'm sure you have a lot more important things to be doing, Officer Buffay, so I'll just let you get back to your job. We gotta keep these city streets free, now don't we?"

Phoebe forced another smile, "I'm getting the shit off the streets as we speak."

"Then I owe you my utmost gratitude, now don't I?"

"Perhaps," Phoebe gave another small smile, "I'll see you around then, Mr. Bing?"

"You know where to find me, Officer Buffay."

Then they both turned and walked in opposite directions without so much as another word. This was always how they ended their conversations, nothing more and nothing less. It was their game.

* * *

Even if Monica Geller wasn't the daughter of a top crime lord, her looks would be enough to make people freeze the second she walked into a room. Just one look from her icy blue eyes was enough to make a man stop in his tracks. But, because she was Geller's daughter, she commanded a room the moment she walked into it not only by nature, but by power as well. 

And having that much power in her back pocket, ever so smoothly, was enough to make anyone stop talking.

She walked down the street, casually darting her eyes from person to person, seeing each single pair of eyes that she met react in one way or another. Some melted. Others cowered.

But then she met a pair of just as icy blue eyes that stared right back at her. Unblinking. They never reacted. Not even for a second. Then she let the rest of the face come into focus. He was an attractive man, in his mid to later twenties, with neatly maintained brown hair, and a stylish suit.

But there was an air of arrogance about him. Not to say she didn't suffer a similar streak every so often, but growing up the way that she had did that to a person. You tended to hold your nose up a little, even if you hadn't meant to.

And there was something familiar about him. The closer she got to him, the more familiar he became, but she just couldn't put her finger on who he was.

The distance between them became shorter and shorter, until they were nearly nose to nose in the crowded street.

Monica studied him over, "Do I know you?"

He shrugged, "Maybe. I know a lot of people."

She stuck out her hand, "I'm Monica."

He shook it, "Chandler." He continued to maintain eye contact. It was the kind of eye contact that had a sort of arrogance to it. Her kind of eye contact.

But nobody had ever stared back at her before.

He smiled faintly, "You want to get a cup of coffee or something?" He motioned towards a nearby coffee shop, "I know it's a cutesy name, but it's got good coffee. And nobody bothers you there."

"Central Perk is pretty cutesy. Usually I avoid cutesy."

"Make an exception?"

She continued to stare him down. Waiting for him to break. But he still maintained his coolness. "Just this once, I'll make an exception. But you better not tell anybody."

"How could I? I don't even know you're last name."

She smiled coolly, "Maybe that's for the best. Most days are ruined by the pressures of knowing the other person." She was not going to be undone by this Chandler person.

"How so?"

"Once you know the other person's name, too many pressures are thrown in the mix. Because now you have the opportunity of having something amazing with this person."

"But people scare easily."

"Then they don't call you back."

"And you're crushed," he answered simply.

"Burned," she elaborated.

"Then you wonder what you did wrong."

"Like it was your fault."

"All right, then," he smiled, "No personal information. No romantic inclinations, or anything of that nature. Then we'll both have the most perfect day to look back on."

"And cover up all of our bad days."

He nodded, "To Central Perk?"

He held out his hand for her to take. Monica hesitated for a moment, before she clasped her hand in his own, "Central Perk."

* * *

_So, I was having some debate over Monica and Chandler's meeting. I have another copy written where they recogize each other off the bat, but I liked it better when they didn't know each other. It sets up some nice dramatic irony for the story, and then I can give them time to fall in love, then drama, drama, they find out each other's last name, more drama drama, they over come it, yaddy, yaddy, yadda. _

_But I would love your feedback on that one._

_Also, if anyone knows where the quote at the begining came from, bonus points. _

**_Updates up sooner or later.  
Please Review._**


	3. Coffee

Back from the dead. The quote from the previous chapter is from the famous Queen Mab speech. Thanks for the reviews, hope you enjoy the update! **Thanks to a reviewer for the catch on my storyline mistake! **Waiting nearly five years between updates can cause a few brain farts, I'll try to be more careful next time!

* * *

_"Is she a Capulet?/O dear account! My life is my foe's debt."_  
_(Act One, Scene Five)_

Chandler smiled coolly as he dialed the familiar number. This was perfect. He honestly couldn't believe his dumb luck. Tribbiani would be happy with his progress, surprised even. No one, including himself, expected to him to be taking the daughter of Gellar to coffee.

The phone rang, and rang. He grew frustrated, knowing Joey was either busy making moves on some new girl or busy trying to locate his phone. When Joey wasn't screwing somebody he was the most scatterbrained man on earth, god only knows how he could possibly be related to the cool and calculated Tribbiani.

Eventually the ringing ceased, Joey cleared his throat on the other end. He had been with a girl. He always cleared his throat when he felt guilty about screwing somebody instead of doing as his father instructed, and Joey's only job today was to answer the phone if it were to ring. Tribbiani rarely trusted Joey with large responsibilities.

"Hello?" He finally made out.

Chandler could hear the rustling of cloths in the background, "Took you long enough to answer the phone, Jo." He tried to sound annoyed, but truth be told Chandler loved the scatterbrained Italian like a brother. His antics were only sources of amusement and conversation, rather than a true frustration.

"Yeah, sorry, man, you know how it is," Joey chuckled slightly. Chandler could hear a high pitched giggle in the background, he shook his head.

"You'll never believe who I'm about to sit down to coffee with."

"The Queen of England?"

"No, better."

"Who?"

"Monica Gellar," Chandler practically breathed out, afraid that Monica might overhear him saying her name. He couldn't blow this now, it was too perfect an opportunity to blow on something silly like that.

"No!"

"Yeah, I'm looking at her right now," he turned around to face her. She watched him carefully, and he returned her gaze, "And the best part is, she has no idea who I am."

* * *

Monica watched him with an icy gaze. There was something about him. Something familiar. She racked her brain to place him, but thoughts of his messy, spiked hair and charming smile distracted her. She mentally chided herself to keep on task. She shouldn't even be here anyways. Even if she wasn't supposed to be working for her father, she was engaged. Engaged women didn't agree to coffee dates with random men they met on the street.

But there was just something about him.

Something,

_Irresistible_.

She felt her lips curl into a smile. She watched him as he talked to someone on the pay phone in the corner of the coffee shop. He said that he had make a quick call to a friend.

She would have felt guilty staring at him, if he had not been doing the same. The only thing she felt guilty about was the way in which was the looking at him. It was the same way that she had looked at Richard, her finance, in the beginning. It wasn't that Monica didn't love Richard anymore, it was just after four years, you lose some of that spark. That lustful desire that begins most relationships.

She wasn't cheating on Richard. Thoughts and looks were perfectly acceptable. Actions, on the other hand, were not. And besides, it wasn't like Richard had never looked at another woman during their four year romance. It was about time Monica got to look at another person in that way.

It was only fair.

A waitress placed the two coffees in front of Monica, interrupting her thoughts.

"Here you go, m'am, is there anything else you two would like?" The waitress said with a polite smile. Monica shook her head no, and the waitress turned her attentions to other patrons.

By the time the waitress had left, he returned to their table. A small, private table in the back of the coffee shop, Monica's choosing. She may not have been cheating, but it sure as hell looked like she was.

He smiled brightly at her, "So, since we're going the whole no personal information route, what should I call you?"

"What do you mean? I already know your name, Chandler."

"Shh!" He looked around playfully, "Come on, Monica," he whispered, "This is so cloak and dagger, we should have some fun with it! Code names are needed. The situation practically begs for it!"

He smiled at her. She thought the situation over, code names would probably help things. She was an engaged woman after all, not to mention the daughter and personal lawyer to one of the biggest mafia heads in the city.

She chuckled softly, covering up her intentions, "All right then, call me Holly." It was simple enough. Now everyone around them would hear him calling her  
Holly. This way, if anyone thought they might recognize her, the name change would certainly cover her tracks. "And now, what should I call you?"

"Why Holly?" He avoided the question.

"_Breakfast at Tiffany's _with Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, the charming New York City call girl with a commitment problem. It's one of my favorite movies, actually," she gave a playful wink, "And every girl likes being compared to the likeness of Audrey Hepburn every once in awhile."

"No other connection to the character besides the movie, right?"

She smiled flirtatiously, "I thought we said no personal information."

"I think I have a right to know if I'm supposed to be paying you at the end of the date." He leaned in closer, giving a flirtatious grin, "And how the date will end, if you know what I mean," he leaned out laughing, further proving the joking nature of the comment.

Monica chuckled softly, "No personal connection to the character, but if you want to give me a fifty for the washroom out of the kindness of your heart, I won't stop you. However, I can tell you, that this particular date will end very disappointingly for a particular part of your anatomy."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"I can blame him for being a sleaze."

"You brought it up first," he shot back with a hint of laughter in his voice. This was not his first time playing verbal sparing. In fact, he seemed to quite enjoy it. Even when the nature of his character was being called into question.

She shook her head, "Well, what should I call you?"

"Well as much as I love being referred to as a sleaze, and the tempting nicknames that go with the adjective,"

"I would be more than happy to oblige with any of those nicknames," she grinned from ear to ear. It had been awhile since she had smiled that big and meant it. Despite her reservations, today was going to be a good day. She could feel it.

He smiled brightly, "Call me Ishmael."

Monica leaned back in her chair, and gave a flirty grin, "Ah, you're well read. I like that in a man."

"I find that most women do."

"And not a lot of men our age are that in-to reading. I mean, Richard loves to read. And nothing fun, either. It's always something epic like _War and Peace_ or _On Walden's Pond_. I mean would it kill him to slip in some tacky little serial murder mystery?"

He laughed, "_On Walden's Pond_, god, the worst week of my life. And I didn't even get through the whole thing, I'm just talkin' the notes I had to talk Stewart Applebee into giving me so that I could get through without the overwhelming desire to jump off the nearest bridge. And I'm not gonna lie, the desire was still there. To this day, I stay away from bridges just in case somebody like this Richard guy you were talking about starts quoting from it and I just make a leap for it."

"I know, it's the driest thing I've ever read and it's on his top five. And I didn't even read all of it. I maybe got through twenty pages in four months, before I just decided to lie and tell him that I read the book and loved it endlessly."

"So, who's the Richard character? You're not wearing a wedding band, so he can't be your husband. Boyfriend, maybe? Fiancée, even?"

Monica slapped him playfully on the shoulder, "Shame, shame, Ishmael. We agreed, no personal information."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and sipped their coffee. Monica looked around the coffee shop, it was small but not cramped, filled to the brim with random knickknacks and whatnot combining with a riot of friendly colors. It all combined nicely however, there was almost something calming and peaceful about the place.

But she could not help to feel out of place in a place like this. She wasn't the type of girl who should be hanging out in coffee shops. She intimidated people on a daily basis with her legal actions and her family name. This was a family place. She looked over at Ishmael, he looked just as out of place as she did.

She belonged in the Underworld. And she had a funny feeling he did too.

* * *

Phoebe Buffay stood quietly outside of the small coffeehouse. This was certainly an interesting development. Chandler Bing, attorney galore to the Tribbiani Crime Family out to coffee with Geller's baby girl lawyer, Monica Geller. This is information people would kill for. Turn for.

And in the Underworld, sometimes information was all you had.

She watched as they smiled, laughed, and talked with ease. The pair seemed so comfortable with each other, she wondered how long they had carried on the affair. Monica looked at Chandler with a sense of curiosity and playfulness, while Chandler sat there cool, calm, and collected.

Taking out a small camera, she began shooting pictures of the pair. Incriminating evidence of an incriminating coffee date. She wondered who she should talk to first. Richard Burke? Monica's supposed fiancé? No, he was quite the womanizing type, and old-school to-boot, leverage like this would only cause tension in the relationship, not enough to cause the demise of the Geller Crime Family.

Joey Tribbiani would be an obvious choice for the Tribbiani Crime Family. Brash and stupid, he would certainly feel the betrayal of his friend and long time confidant the strongest. He would retaliate with brutality and foolishness, make a mistake, and the justice system would prevail. Taking Chandler and Joey out of the picture would certainly cause the demise of the Tribbiani Family.

Ross Geller would be the next best choice for the Geller clan, either that or Will Green. Ross was Geller's oldest son, the betrayal of his sister would seem shocking, punishable. And Ross was already known for his temper. But Will Green would be anxious to get into the good graces of the family, eager to please, eager to eliminate the threat of loose lips.

She would bring down both houses. Both thought to be untouchable. The city of New York would have to thank her, the first woman to make it to major crimes. The only woman. Constantly ridiculed by her peers, they would have to accept her. Appreciate her. Respect her.

The real world was not unlike the Underworld. Phoebe Buffay would do what she had to do to earn respect. The only difference would be she would carry out her finial act of justice with legal means. And with the Families lawyers out of the way, there would be no loopholes.

It was entirely perfect. Even the Underworld would have to agree.

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